


Protocol Caged Bird

by Lurafita



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Peter, Alternate Universe, Bondage, Captivity, Clint is not married and has no kids, College Student Peter, Dark Avengers - Freeform, Dubious Consent, Everyone loves Peter, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, No Powers!Peter, Not Exactly Healthy Relationships, Obsession, Peter is not spiderman, Polyamory, Possessive Avengers, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tony is not in a relationship with Pepper, Very Dubious Consent, and love him, darkly soft Avengers, in that they just want to keep Peter safe and with them, in that way, obsessive Avengers, the others are still the Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-08-20 00:09:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20218558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurafita/pseuds/Lurafita
Summary: I have two settings when it comes to writing fanfictions with Peter Parker.When I write him as a teenager, I usually like to put him in a familial environment with everyone and just have fun with it all.When I write him as an adult, I (sometimes) just want everyone to be creepily obsessed with him and love him and **** him.So, this one follows the second category. It's not too dark, but it's not exactly happy either. Mind the tags.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It kinda baffles me, that sometimes, when one writer takes inspiration from another writer's story, and puts their own ideas and twists into it, this particular plot becomes a trope. And then other times, when one writer takes inspiration from another writer's story, and puts their own ideas and twists into it, they get attacked for stealing the idea.
> 
> I genuinely don't get this. (Well, no, actually I get it a little bit. Authors put a lot of work and love into their stories and it's only right to have that work be acknowledged.)
> 
> Look, let me explain.
> 
> I write about things I like, right?
> 
> I center my stories around the characters I like the most and create situations that I find exciting or appealing or enjoyable. (Or sometimes even sad or scary when I'm in a particular mood.)
> 
> Point of the matter is: I write what I want to read.
> 
> Which, to me, translates that I want others to get inspiration from my stories.
> 
> I want people to read my stuff and say: "I liked that. I'm gonna write something like that!", or: "This was a nice conclusion, but this story could have played out very differently. I would like to explore an alternate event.", or: "There was this one thing in this story that I would like to put into a different context.", or even: "Well, the idea itself was nice enough, but I don't think it was very well executed here. I would like to try my hand on this."
> 
> Because all of this, would afford me with a wide variety of stories to read that I would likely enjoy. (Not even to mention the great honor and ginormous ego-boost I would feel knowing that something I wrote somehow inspired someone else.)
> 
> So, with having explained my stand on this matter, please see this as blanket permission from me, to make use of anything written in my works of fanfiction you want.
> 
> Any prompt, plot bunny, vague idea, characteristics explored, circumstances written, or full on story of mine that has been published here;
> 
> \- if you want to write something with the same premise, but different development
> 
> \- if you want to write something completely different, but want to use one aspect or characteristic featured in the stories
> 
> \- if you can find any inspiration from any of my works at all
> 
> PLEASE use whatever you need or want from them.

The long chain wasn’t actually necessary, what with Friday being able to control every door and window in the building, and every single one of the Avengers being physically stronger and faster than him _(even the non-enhanced ones like Tony, Natasha, Clint and Sam). _

So it’s not like Peter could escape from their private floor, much less the tower as a whole.

They simply liked the physical proof that he couldn’t get away. They liked being able to touch the chain, to hear the links clink when he moved. They liked being able to see him tethered to their home. Their territory.

-

It hadn’t started like this. Of course not. These things never do. Or, at least Peter doesn’t think they do.

He had been one of the very few lucky college students to get an internship at Stark Industries, home of the Avengers. _(Though, while Peter was undoubtedly a fan, he cared far more about the Stark Industries part of the deal, than being close to the cities heroes)_

He had started out as a lab assistant to one of the project leaders, working on different things. After about four months of that, the new interns _(which included Peter)_, had been asked to propose an idea for a new project that could benefit the company, and/or society.

Peter’s idea of an organic polymer that could be compressed and stored in great quantities, and hardened to adjustable strength when exposed to air, had immediately caught the attention of one Dr. Bruce Banner.

After the initial shock and hero worship that Peter experienced when being face to face with one of the greatest minds the scientific community had to offer wore off, he was able to talk to Dr. Banner **(”Please, call me Bruce.”)** about the different applications his formula could be used for, especially in the fields of emergency rescue and medicine.

Peter had apparently left such a good impression on the doctor, that the man who would occasionally turn into a green rage monster, had elevated Peter to his personal lab assistant.

Needless to say, the college student was over the moon.

Shortly after beginning to work with Dr. Banner **(”No, seriously Peter, call me Bruce”)**, Peter had gotten to know Tony Stark.

Stark was a close friend and frequent visitor of Dr. Banner _(which of course he was, with them both being on the same Superhero team)_, and had come to the lab one day to talk shop and escape one of his many, many board meetings.

After Peter somehow managed to stutter his way through an introduction to Tony fucking Stark, the man had enthusiastically joined the two in brainstorming for more and more ways to adjust and improve on the ‘web-fluid’. **(”So you are the little Spiderling Brucie-bear has been ranting about for the last few days.”  
“Sp-Spiderling, sir?”  
“Well, your web-fluid, yes, that’s what I’m calling it, does have some similarity to spidersilk. I was just going to call you ‘Bug-boy’, but seeing you in person, that name doesn’t really fit someone as cute as you.”**  
_Not knowing how to deal with being called ‘cute’ by one of the smartest and most powerful men in the world, Peter’s brain had zeroed in on the one thing it could process. _“**…Spiders are arachnids…”** _The two older scientists had given him an impossibly fond look for that comment)_

Lab work often ran pretty late, and on one day where the hours had flown by particularly fast, Bruce had invited Peter to just stay the night there.

**(”I wouldn’t feel good about you taking the subway at this hour of the day, or rather night. There are more than enough guest rooms on the Avengers floor. And I’m sure we can find you something to sleep in.”  
“I, I couldn’t, Dr. Ban- I mean Bruce. That would be such an imposition-”  
“You are not an imposition, Peter. As I said, more than enough rooms. Tony has actually raised the idea of giving you one of those for your internship. You are our most promising intern in years.” **_Peter had blushed fifty shades of red_  
“**But Dr- Bruce, that’s not necessary, really, it’s not that late, I can just-”  
“Nonsense. Crime has been picking up lately, especially after dark. Can’t have my best assistant get jumped on his way home. Come on, it’s Steve’s turn to cook tonight, and that man makes a mean casserole.”)**

And that’s how he had met the other Avengers.

He was awkward at first, shy and insecure about every little thing he said and every gesture he made. But the Avengers _(THE AVENGERS!)_ had been very welcoming of the younger man. Asked him about his studies, his work in the labs, teased lightly about how much both Bruce and Tony were always praising him.  
The dinner had been great, conversation flowing between him _(a total nobody) _and the worlds mightiest heroes, going through many different topics. It had been mostly lighthearted and funny, with Peter being just as pleasantly surprised about the easy camaraderie as the Avengers were.  
He had helped clean the dishes after, and had tried his best to not feel emasculated when the clothes to sleep in, had come out of the Black Widow’s closet. **(”You have a dancer’s figure. Nothing to be ashamed of. The guys’ clothes would just swamp you.”  
“I,… uhm.. th.thank you, miss Widow, I mean, miss Romanoff? I used to do ballet, but had to stop once I got into college. Time constraints..”  
“Call me Natasha. If you want, you can join me in the training room sometime. I like to go through a few of the routines, they are good for balance and agility.”  
“O-oh, I couldn’t disrupt your training like that-”  
“I will pick you up from college tomorrow, then we will go through some positions and figures. Make sure you eat something light beforehand. After, we will come back up here and make Barnes cook something. I know about that ‘starving college student’ myth, and I will not have you become one, you are skinny enough as it is.”)**

And so Peter had started to do a few hours of ballet with Natasha every week. Which always led to being fed by whoever was in charge of cooking on that particular day.  
Tony tried to steal him away from Bruce’s lab and into his own about 4 times a week, and succeeded about half the time.  
Lab hours stretched late into the evening on more and more days, and Peter found himself sleeping over at the tower a lot. The closet in the guest room he used, gradually filled with clothes in his size, and three new pairs of shoes appeared in the room one morning _(while his own, old and very battered ones, were nowhere to be found.)_  
Tony never admitted to buying the items for him, but the satisfied expression on the older man’s face when he saw the brunette in his new clothes, was its own confession.  
Bruce started to keep snacks and drinks in his lab, and made sure that Peter took regular breaks in between the sciencing. Whenever Tony had Peter in his own lab, Friday would remind the genius that both he and his intern were required to take a break to eat and drink something.  
Peter was made to stay for dinner almost every night, even the ones that he didn’t sleep there.  
He got to know the men and woman behind their hero persona’s, and in turn opened himself up for them.  
Thor would visit a lot, and while it took a little more time for Peter to get over being starstruck by the god, than it had for the other Avengers, a friendship was struck quickly.

He truly, genuinely liked the Avengers. And they truly, genuinely liked Peter.

And the college student had thought that that was all it was.

He didn’t notice when fond, friendly looks, became lingering, longing stares.  
He didn’t notice when little, friendly touches, would last longer, would become caresses.  
Jovial shoulder pats turned into full body hugs.  
Leading the younger somewhere suddenly always required the other to hold on to his wrist, hand, or arm, or to keep a guiding hand on Peter’s lower back.  
They sat closer during dinner and the occasional movie night.  
Natasha corrected his stance and form during their ballet sessions far more often than Peter thought necessary. Pressing close and intimate every time.  
They started to fuss over him more.  
Made sure he ate and drank enough, always asked if he slept well, insisted he just stay over to study for his exams and other college work. **(”Where else would you get a super computer and two certified geniuses to help you if you need it, Spiderling?”)**

Peter hadn’t thought anything of it.

So they were a little protective and tactile, it’s not as if Peter minded physical forms of affection.

When they started to gripe about the neighborhood Peter lived in, he took it in stride. He knew it wasn’t the best part in the city. Ned, MJ and Aunt May similarly weren’t happy with Peter living there. But student housing had been filled to the brim when Peter started at the university, and the apartment had been close to the campus and cheap. **(”Because it’s a shithole, Petey. Wasn’t there a drug raid just around the blog from your address last week? I think I heard something about that in the news. Do you even have hot water in that hovel?”) **  
His answer of “**Sometimes.”**, had been met with many heavy and worried frowns.

Needless to say that Peter had been vigorously _urged _by the Avengers to abandon the place, and just move into the guest room he was already occupying most of the time anyway.

Peter had declined, of course. He could not be such a burden to his friends, not when they had already done so much for him. But the Avengers were evidently far more stubborn and determined than the college student, and by the end of that same week, Peter’s lease had been canceled via one phone call of Tony’s lawyers, and all of his belongings had been moved to the tower.

But still, the brunette hadn’t really thought anything of it.

Sure, their actions had been a little heavy handed _(and controlling)_, but it was understandable, was it not?  
They were his friends.  
They worried.  
They just wanted to help.

But soon after that, the young college student had been appointed a personal driver, who would cart him to and from the university every day.  
Outings with his friends became decidedly less, the more each of the Avengers wanted to spend time with Peter.  
Between ballet, lab work, assisting with cooking or baking, video game sessions, movie nights, spontaneous shopping trips, or any one of the team just sitting down with him and talking, not to mention his course work for university, he hardly found time for his semi-regular phone calls with Aunt May. _(Who was, by the way, ecstatic that he lived with the Avengers_. “**At least now I don’t have to worry about you being robbed blind one night, because your landlord is too cheap to install a working lock on your door.”**_)_

It was fine.

Tony, Bruce, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Steve and Thor were his friends. His very tactile, affectionate and protective friends.

When the pet names started, Peter took it as simply another form of affection.

Friends gave each other nick names. It was fine.

“**Petey, would you hand me that test tube over there? Thanks.”**

“**Alright, sweetheart. Almost done with Mark 39. Just some little adjustments, then it can be taken for a test run.”**

“**Want more sugar for your coffee, doll?”**

“**That last pirouette was beautiful, lastochka.”**

“**Your Toad may have bested me in this round, sweetie, but Bowser and I will have our revenge!”**

“**Honey, did you remember to eat lunch today, or did you neglect your poor empty stomach over studying through your break again?”**

“**You cold, pumpkin? Come over here, I will warm you up right quick.”**

“**I understand that education is important to you, but you shouldn’t push yourself so hard, love. Give the books a rest for today. Sweet dreams.”**

It was fine.

It was fine.

…

Until it wasn’t.

* * *

* * *

The story is finished and will be uploaded in a timely manner. I just don't want to dump all chapters at once, because I have had very bad experiences with uploading too many chapters on different platforms. They sometimes went all out of order, or some chapters just didn't show up at all.

This is in no way connected to my two fic series that are already on here.

Hope you enjoyed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you will like this part as well. This is probably not exactly what you expected from the next part, but I wanted to use the opportunity to highlight what Peter means to the Avengers. (And how those deep feelings they hold for him later feed their growing obsession with him)

Being an Avenger was both the greatest, and the worst.

The reason it was great, was because they got to help people.  
They were able to use their exceptional skills and powers for the good of others.   
They were the ones who took care of the threats that normal people couldn’t.  
They saved the world.  
And the world loved them.

Which led to the reason why it was the worst.   
Iron Man, The Hulk, Thor, Captain America, The Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and The Falcon were heroes.   
Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, Steve Rogers, James Barnes, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff and Sam Wilson were famous.   
  
With the exception of Tony, who had grown up in the spotlight, and Thor, who was royalty in his realm, no one had been particularly used to stardom when it began. 

They liked being heroes. But they hated being celebrities.

They couldn’t just go to that little cafe two streets over, to get a pastry for breakfast, without donning an elaborate disguise._ (No, a cap and sunglasses weren’t enough, at least not for Steve, Thor and Bucky. Their enhanced physique exposed them every time.)_

They couldn’t just go for a little walk in the park, without being swarmed by fans and admirers, asking for a photo and an autograph. 

They couldn’t spontaneously try out a new restaurant, without throwing the place in an uproar, with patrons and staff alike clambering all over each other to express their devotion and love to the saviors of New York. 

Fan mail ranged from sweet and uplifting _(mostly crayon drawings of little children, which the team accepted happily and stored carefully away)_, to depraved and downright filthy_ (mostly anonymous letters depicting sexual fantasies the person had about one or more of the heroes. As well as raging haters, who blamed the Avengers for any collateral damage that happened during their fights, painting them directly responsible for the very existence of the various dangerous villains. Those letters got treated to S.I.’s industrial incinerator.)_

Being a hero came with a massive amount of pressure. Being a celebrity even more so.

The public didn’t care for the little sketches Steve Rogers drew in his free time, as long as Captain America continued to throw his shield into the faces of the countries enemies. 

They didn’t care that Sam Wilson used to devote most of his time to help soldiers and war veterans deal with their trauma, so long as The Falcon continued to fly above them and keep them safe.

They didn’t care that Natasha Romanoff and James Barnes still sometimes struggled under the weight of their past, where they had been used and abused for the goals of others, as long as Black Widow and Winter Soldier continued to punish the unjust.

Nobody was interested in knowing that Bruce Banner might some day be able to find a cure for a deadly disease, as long as the Hulk roared and smashed their enemies.

People liked to pretend that the hearing aids Clint Barton wore, were a fashion statement, instead of something that helped him overcome being almost completely deaf. Heroes couldn’t have a disability. Heroes couldn’t rise to the top of their profession in spite of being handicapped. Heroes had to be perfect.

If Thor showed an interest in something not Avengers related, didn’t understand a proverb or proved to be unfamiliar with something that was common knowledge for every one else, it was laughed off quickly. Who cared if the alien prince didn’t understand earth culture, as long as he wielded his hammer and summoned lightning. 

So what if Tony Stark made great advancements in clean energy? So what if he proved time and time again what an outstanding visionary he was? It was only natural, wasn’t it? He was the son of Howard Stark.  
Tony was _supposed_ to be smart. _Of course_ he was a genius.  
So what if he had stepped away from weapons manufacturing? He was still his father’s son. It was all thanks to the genes, you know? His accomplishments weren’t his own.  
Just show everyone what your new suit can do and shut up about things nobody cares to know.

Of course not everyone was like this. 

Of course they had friends outside of the team. 

People like Pepper and Rhodes and Dr. Helen Cho, who didn’t demand for them to be ‘the Avengers’ all the time. Friends who understood that they were their own individuals first, and their hero persona’s second.   
But they weren’t what the eight men and woman needed. 

Pepper and Rhodey were Tony’s friends, but they weren’t as close with the rest of the team. Also it was, perhaps bizarrely, the fact that they had a personal history with the man Tony had been before he became Iron Man, that made them unable to truly see and understand the person he was now.  
Dr. Cho was friendly and nice to have around, but she was their doctor first and foremost, and always maintained a professional distance to them because of it.   
Natasha and Clint had some acquaintances from their days working for Shield, but no one they felt truly open with, as they did with each other and the rest of the team.   
A colleague in the scientific field, who understood what you were talking about and shared your interests, was no stand in for a true friend and confidant for Bruce.  
Sam still kept in contact with some of his buddies from his time in the military, but they were phone calls mostly, or the occasional drink in a bar somewhere, whenever someone was in town.   
Bucky, Steve and Thor found themselves the least able to connect with people outside of the team, feeling out of their depths in a world so different from the one they grew up in. 

Being so distanced from the world and the people they protected, had certainly allowed them to grow closer as a team. 

But it was lonely.

_And then Peter came along. _

And it might be a cliche thing to say, but Peter was _different_.

He was shy and sweet and considerate. Talking to the brunette was easy and comfortable and interesting. 

He was a fan, sure, but he wasn’t intrusive. He admired what they did as heroes, but he was interested about who they were under the mask as well. 

When he found one of Steve’s sketches, he didn’t say “Oh wow, **Captain America** is an artist, too!”  
Instead, he smiled widely at the super soldier and said  
  
“This is fantastic, Steve! And the lines are so clean and sure, you must have put some serious effort into this. Man, I always wanted to be able to draw, but I have no talent for it. I tried to make a comic when I was in high school, for art class,.. my first ever D. And to be honest, that was a sign of mercy from my teacher. I can barely draw stick figures. But my comic would have been awesome, I tell you. ‘The amazing Spiderman’! He was a teen who was bitten by a radioactive spider and developed super powers. And, I’m sorry to say, but he would have totally kicked your butt.”  
  
Followed by a mischievous grin and fun little eyebrow wiggle, and Steve had sat down next to the younger man, showing him more of his drawings and talking about their favorite comic book heroes for the next two hours.

-

When Peter and Natasha started doing ballet together, Peter listened attentively to her instructions and corrections, not because she was the Black Widow, but because she was the superior dancer.  
He saw no problem with taking on the female parts of a performance every now and then, didn’t conform or cling to the typical gender roles society liked to enforce.  
He sometimes got self-conscious of his slighter built _(especially when compared to the broad shouldered, tall and muscled men of the team)_, but his gender never impacted the way he treated the only woman of the team. Natasha wasn’t just a woman, or a hero, or a dancer to him. She was **all** of that. She was Natasha.

-

When Bucky had one night wandered into the living room, having been roused by a particularly bad nightmare about his time with Hydra, hoping not to be swallowed up by the memories and trying to get rid of the overwhelming feeling that the shadows were growing ever darker, Peter had been there. The younger man had already been sitting on the large couch, crouched over one of his many thick books, scribbling frantically over one of his notepads, and a cup of no longer steaming coffee next to him.   
  
“Oh, hey Bucky. Didn’t know anyone would be up at this hour. Sorry, I originally just wanted to get a cup of coffee to finish this paper that I totally forgot was due tomorrow, but then I just settled down here. But I can pack up and just finish this in my room, if you want to be alone. … Do you? Want to be alone, I mean? You look a little.. Can I get you anything?”  
  
Bucky hadn’t wanted to be alone. But he also hadn’t wanted to talk about his nightmare. Peter hadn’t pushed him. By this point in the teams blooming friendship with the college student, Peter knew a little more about the heroes than most did, and that included Bucky’s long years of being brainwashed by Hydra.   
  
“I don’t think I will ever be able to imagine, much less understand, what you had to live through. I will never make you talk about it, but if you ever want to, I will listen. I probably won’t be able to offer a solution, or any kind of worldly advice or something like this, but I promise I will listen. But if you don’t ever want to, that’s okay. I like you, Bucky. You are my friend. That’s not gonna change.”  
  
Peter couldn’t possibly understand how much those words had meant to Bucky. The Avengers were heroes. They saved the day. They fought the evil. They _fixed_ things that were broken.   
They so often had tried to fix Bucky.   
But Bucky didn’t think of himself as broken. He was new, different.  
Hydra had changed him, had tortured and manipulated and used him. But they hadn’t broken him. It was why they had needed to wipe him. The drugs and the brainwashing and the conditioning was all done, because they hadn’t been able to break who Bucky was deep down.   
He was still James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, but he was also the Winter Soldier. Steve and the others were slowly beginning to understand that.   
But Peter’s easy acceptance, the way he looked at Bucky and didn’t see someone who needed fixing, but simply a friend… it had possibly been one of the most precious things that Bucky had ever experienced.   
He listened as Peter explained about his papers topic, understanding non of it, but just enjoying to hear the younger man talk. When Peter had drifted off shortly after writing down the last sentence, leaning against the other man’s side _(so trusting)_, Bucky had felt at peace.

-

Before he created his alter ego, the Hulk, science had been fun. Mixing chemicals, pouring over impossibly long formulas and seeing how to improve them and how to implement them into whatever he needed them to, had been fascinating.   
After the Hulk, it became a tool.  
Biology, chemistry, physics, they were all just ways to distract himself from thinking too much about that raging, never silent, monster that dwelt inside of him. A monster of his own making.   
When Peter started working with him in his personal labs, Bruce found himself slowly remembering why he had pursued a career in science in the first place. Peter was a shy, almost skittish thing at first, but not because he was afraid the other man would turn green and smash him into the ground any moment, but because he was talking to one of the most accomplished and intelligent people in the world.   
Peter’s enthusiasm about everything that happened in the scientific community, was only surpassed by his unwavering respect for the advancements that Bruce had been able to make in the last few years.   
  
“My aunt was diagnosed with lung cancer shortly after my uncle passed away. It’s thanks to the medication you developed that she was able to combat it. We… I… I owe you a lot.”  
  
It was so easy to forget these things, the little projects he had worked on in order to forget the fact that he was a barely controlled ball of all consuming rage.   
And here was Peter, sweet, kind, Peter, thanking him for saving the life of someone he loved.   
Bruce Banner had done that. Not the Hulk. Not the Avenger.   
The older man had looked down at his hands, and for the first time in a long time, not seen green skin stretched over obscenely big fists, that could destroy everything in their way with ease. But instead had seen the hands of a scholar, a doctor, a scientist, who had used them to write down formulas and mix together chemicals and created something that had saved someone’s life.   
It felt good.   
Peter never seemed even the slightest bit uneasy about Bruce losing control over the beast inside him and hurting the brunette. It was concerning.  
  
“I’m not perfect, you know? I make sure to keep myself in check, I meditate regularly and try my best to suppress any anger I might feel outside of a battlefield. But there is really no guarantee that I won’t let myself get frustrated and angry one day and lose control. The Hulk could hurt you very badly.”  
  
Peter had looked at him with those huge, wide honey brown eyes of his, seeming a little shocked. But, as it turned out, not for the reason Bruce had anticipated.  
  
“I don’t think you should have to suppress your anger all the time. Uhm, don’t get me wrong, I understand that it probably wouldn’t be good to have the Hulk around all the fragile equipment and chemicals, but it can’t be healthy to hold yourself under such tight control all the time. I mean, these emotions are human. You should be allowed to experience and express them.”  
  
“Even if expressing them ends up in turning into an 8 feet tall, green, raging monster, that destroys everything in it’s path?”  
  
There may have been a bitter note to his words, that Bruce hadn’t been able to completely suppress. But Peter hadn’t looked cowed. More contemplative.   
  
“Well, I saw a video once, where people in, I think it was Japan, could rent a room for half an hour, that was full of dishes and glasses and other breakable things. And then they would just let loose and smash and break everything they could in that time, while screaming their lungs out. It was referred to as a kind of therapeutic self-care. Allowing yourself to just let your anger and frustration out, in a controlled environment, so that you don’t just store it all up and run the risk of it one day overflowing and overtaking you. You could do something like that, if you wanted. Having negative emotions, that’s normal. You shouldn’t have to hide them.”  
  
When was the last time that anybody had seen Bruce Banner, the Hulk, as anything close to _normal_?  
  
“Also, I don’t think you are giving Hulk enough credit. I, uhm, that is, I don’t mean to overstep any boundaries here, of course, but… How do I put this.. I don’t think he is just a ‘raging monster that destroys everything in it’s path’. If that were the case, he probably wouldn’t have saved my life 3 years ago.”  
  
Now that had been news to Bruce.  
  
“The Hulk saved your life? 3 years ago… wait, that was when those mutated reptiles were running amok in the city.”  
  
“Yeah. I was out with my friends, and we got stuck under a bridge, when trying to get away from the battlefield. One of the crocodile things landed on the bridge and caused it to crumble above us. I was sure we were about to be buried under the falling stones. But then Hulk was there, swatting the croc thing away and holding up the bridge, until we were clear. A monster only capable of destroying things, wouldn’t have done that. The Hulk may be a part of you, but you are also a part of the Hulk. At least, that’s what I think… OH! That reminds me! We didn’t really get a chance to thank him for saving us back then. Could you tell him? Uhm, that is, can you talk to him? Or can he hear and see what you do? In that case, thank you, Hulk. Uhm, was that weird? That was weird, right? Sorry, just ignore me.”  
  
Peter had been flustered for a solid thirty minutes after that, awkwardly trying to get back to working on his web fluid. While Bruce had felt… a lot. He had felt a whole fucking lot in that moment. So many things had been moved into a new light for him right then. So many thoughts rearranged themselves in his mind, forming new conclusions, that he would have never thought of otherwise. In the depths of his conscious, a part sectioned off for his alter ego, that he usually never ventured near, he could almost hear a deep voice, a grunt, somehow calm, kind and fond, as both he and the Hulk gazed in wonder and admiration at the young intern.   
  
“You’re welcome.”

-

When the news anchor recapped the latest battle the Avengers had fought in the city, the team was already back at the tower, showered and pretty much bonelessly reclining in the chairs and couches all over the living room. Non of them had received anything worse than a few bruises and some bigger scratches, thankfully, and Peter was just helping Sam with bandaging one of those big scratches, when the anchor said:   
  
“Once again New York’s very own Avengers have saved the day. The heroes were able to apprehend Dr. Otto Octavious, or better known under his alias, Dr. Octopus, before the villain was able to cause too much damage. With the assistance of Hawkeye and Falcon,-”  
  
Clint and Sam did their best to ignore whatever else the guy had to say, far too used to being seen as less than the other heroes on their team, due to not being enhanced or decked out in a suit of armor _(or not being as fundamentally badass as Natasha)._ Peter, however, was not.  
  
“Excuse me, what does he mean ‘assistance’? Friday showed me the live stream of that fight. You two were awesome! If Clint hadn’t taken care of those drones, Tony wouldn’t have been able to disable the bomb in time. And if Sam hadn’t drawn that whack-job’s attention on himself, the civilians there would have definitely been caught in the crossfire! Where does that guy get off, calling what you did ‘assistance’?”  
  
Peter was so offended by this, he didn’t quite catch the grateful looks the team, and Clint and Sam in particular, were sending him.   
  
“Don’t worry about it, Pete. We are used to this.”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, I totally get it. When you look at the Avengers and see Cap and Iron Dude over there, not to mention Thor, it’s just natural that people like Sam and me get pushed to the back. We aren’t anything special.”  
  
Peter answered before anyone else could.  
  
“But you are! I know how much you train every day. And all the mission reports you go over after you get back, to see if there was anything you missed, or anything you might need to improve on for the next mission. And I know that you still hold online sessions for veterans who can’t afford a therapist. And that Clint visits the Manhattan Help Center for the deaf, to help kids learn to sign and accept that their disability shouldn’t keep them from pursuing their dreams. Who cares if you are not as powerful as the others? You… you are incredible!”  
  
A short silence had followed his outburst, then Peter had gone absolutely beet red and hastily excused himself to his room, claiming he had a paper to finish.  
Once again, never seeing the astonished, fond and grateful looks that followed him out.

-

Thor had found himself spending more and more time on Midgard, ever since young Peter had come to live at the tower. Being in the younger man’s company was refreshing in a sense that nothing else was. He was both student and teacher to Thor.   
Due to the difference in culture and technological advancements between Midgard and Asgard, Thor often felt himself at a loss when being confronted with Midgardian traditions or other, as he had learned it was called, pop-culture references. Often his lack of knowledge of such things, was likened to a personal lack of intellect on his part. Which was, quite frankly, a little insulting.  
But Peter never rolled his eyes, or acted in any way patronizing, when he explained something about Midgardian culture or technology to the god.   
He would ask for stories about Asgard in exchange, and listen attentively when Thor spoke at lengths about his and the Warriors 3′s exploits all over their realm. He would listen just as attentively, when Thor spoke about Loki.  
  
“I know my brother has brought great sorrow upon this planet. I do not expect you to forgive him. I will stop speaking of him, if you find it distasteful.”  
  
His shieldbrothers and shieldsister of the Avengers likewise never wished to discuss Loki in any great detail, and he could understand and respect that. His brother had done these people harm, had killed many in his pursuit for power. Had especially wronged his friend Clint, using him as he had.   
But Peter had shaken his head.  
  
“No, no, please tell me about him. I mean, yeah, what he did was pretty bad. I… my friend, she lost her brother during the battle of New York. I wouldn’t want to hear about _that_ Loki. But. He is your brother, and you love him. And I would like to hear about **that Loki **very much.”  
  
Peter’s soul, Thor decided then, was truly as beautiful as Peter himself.

-

Tony liked having Peter in his lab. While he usually preferred working with just his bots and Friday for company, there was something about having the younger man in his space that just… worked. Peter had a unique way to look at things, and when Tony hit a roadblock in his tinkering, he could be pretty much sure that the college student would say something that somehow, leg him to solving the problem. Peter was smart, and funny, and matched him quip for quip.   
Not to mention that Peter was very nice to look at. The tousled hair, the honey brown, wide eyes, that deliciously pale skin, the slim neck, that tight, little ass… It would be so much easier if Peter was just a nice piece of eye candy.   
But the billionaire found himself actually liking the college student more and more.   
  
_**It was the way that Peter treated his bots.   
**_  
“Thank you Dum-E, I think that’s the best smoothie I ever had.”   
  
“Here you go, Butterfingers. Don’t worry about it, we all drop things from time to time.”  
  
“So sorry, U. Didn’t see you there. I didn’t mess up anything, did I?”  
  
“Hey Friday, I think I found a song you might like. I downloaded it for you.”  
  
The others could never understand why Tony, or anyone else, would treat his robots like they were actual people. And Tony didn’t really blame them for that. But Dum-E, Butterfingers, U and Friday were Tony’s creations. He had invested time and effort and countless nights and days to built them, to program them, to create personalities for them. To him, they weren’t just hunks of metal with a functional artificial intelligence.  
The other Avengers treated his bots nicely, but they did so for Tony, not because they thought the bots themselves could tell the difference.   
But Peter understood that the robots were special, and he treated them as such without any prompting from Tony himself.   
  
__**It was the way Peter would get so excited, whenever Tony showed him something new he was working on.  
**  
“That’s brilliant, Tony! If you manage to work this into that last blueprint, the machine will work at 25% more efficiency. This could completely eliminate the earlier problems it was having!”  
  
**It was the way Peter treated him.  
**  
“I know you like proving that you don’t have to adhere to human limitations, but you can’t live off of coffee alone. Here, I made you a sandwich.”  
  
“Well, not to be that guy, but pretty much everyone who had access to news in the last ten years knows about your past alcoholism. And the drugs… and the playboy behavior… the thing is, I don’t think that made you a bad guy. And it certainly doesn’t make you one, now. You overcame that. You fell down and got back up and then just kept climbing higher. That takes strength. And courage. So, like, don’t listen to that reporter chick. The only reason they are bringing that stuff back up, is because you haven’t given them anything new to drag you through the dirt with. I… I think you are very admirable.”  
  
“Okay, I,.. I know you don’t like celebrating your birthday, and that the date on your Wikipedia page is fake, so that you can just pretend to celebrate it with a bunch of strangers and make a really big bash out of it. And, uhm, I’m not expecting you to make an exception or anything today, but, I,.. I got you something. I’m just so grateful for everything you have done for me, the internship and the room and… uhm,. Here! I remembered you talking about how much your mother liked to collect those snow globes that light up when you shake them. But I couldn’t find one I thought you would really like, so I made this myself. And,… I mean, the arc reactor is the thing that keeps you alive and I thought it might be nice to kind of pay homage to it, in a way. And this way I could use blue lights instead of the usual yellow. But maybe that was a little overkill and kinda intrusive and maybe it’s actually pulling up bad memories for you, now that I think about it, so you can totally toss it and I will never bring it up again.”  
  
“… No. No, I- This is beautiful. I… Thank you, Peter.”  
  
He had never been at a loss for words before. 

-

Things were better since Peter had entered their lives. The Avengers felt freer, lighter, than ever before. They could be the heroes they loved to be, **and** the people they actually were, around the younger man. 

Soon they felt no need to hold back small displays of physical affection. Be it to gently wipe a strand of hair out of the students eyes, or cuddling him into their side when sitting down next to him. 

Bestowing little pet names on Peter came naturally, and was easily accepted by everyone around. 

It became natural to have him around them, to prepare a little snack for him when he would arrive back from college, to know he would be there, waiting for them, when they went out on a mission, to see him working with Bruce or Tony in the labs, or to see him studying in the living room or the kitchen, and to see him dancing gracefully with Natasha in the training room. 

It became natural. 

_And necessary. _

Until one day, only two weeks away from Peter’s graduation _(Tony had planned a huge party for their little darling)_, it all threatened to come crashing down.

“Guys! You will never believe it! Professor Stoddard has suggested me for a spot on his expedition team! He is searching for a cure for Alzheimer, and he believes he has found a plant that produces a special anti body that can slow down, or possibly even fight off, the disease completely! If the board approves, I will be boarding a plane to Australia at the end of next month!”

_No_.

No, Peter couldn’t go to _Australia_! He needed to be here! They needed him! He couldn’t go, he couldn’t-

“That’s _<strike>(horrible)</strike>_ great, Petey. How,.. uh,.. how long does Professor Stoddard think the expedition will take?”

Peter smiled brightly at them all, obviously excited for the chance to find a cure for something so many people had to suffer from.

“Well, it’s apparently pretty deep inland. We will have to hike and camp our way through a lot of underbrush, the professor said, cause there are no roads or civilization where we are going. He said to expect to be away for roughly six months, possibly a bit more, depending on the weather conditions when we get there.”

_**No**_.

* * *

* * *

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short and (not really) sweet, guys.  
Please keep in mind, the Avengers in this fic are not exactly like the ones you know from comics, cartoons and the movies. The social isolation they feel due to their stardom has had effects on their psyche and mindset. I'm also rushing the growth and immensity of their obsession. Mostly because I didn't have the patience for a slow burn, with a more comprehensible downslide of their morals and ethics.  
I want to stress: They will never hurt Peter physically, nor humiliate or degrade him, but they are still not right in their actions toward him. Even though they themselves believe it's for Peter's own good, and that they are doing it out of love.

Peter had long since retired, when the others gathered in the common floors living room, to further discuss the bomb the younger man had dropped on them mere hours ago.

Clint was waving his phone around wildly.  
“Australia is the most poisonous continent in the world! There are frogs that can kill you! **Frogs**!”

Bruce was frowning deeply.  
“The climate is drastically different there. Neither his body, nor his immune system will easily adapt. Petey could develop numerous illnesses because of that.”

Sam was likewise shaking his head.  
“Pumpkin doesn’t have the physicality for weeks long hiking in the jungle. He may be good at parkour, but that is still miles away from the terrain that will await him in the underbrush.”

Steve made a sound like a wounded animal.  
“Don’t remind me of that particular hobby of his, please. I still have nightmares from that video he showed us.”

Tony threw back his scotch.  
“Six months. Possibly longer. Sweetheart shouldn’t be away from us for such a long time. <strike>Shouldn’t be away at all</strike>.”

Bucky was pacing, the Winter Soldier clawing at his very being.  
“There isn’t enough Intel. We don’t know the people that would be part of his group. Don’t know the terrain. Can’t predict the conditions. Can’t entrust Doll to strangers._ Not safe_.”

Natasha was stoically silent, though her face was stormy.

Thor looked contemplative.  
“…Then maybe we shouldn’t let him go.”

The others stilled, all looking at the Asgardian.

“Hate to break it to you, L'Oreal, but I already tried bribing the University’s board, in order to make them reject Stoddard’s little excursion. No dice. Figures Peter would attend the one university in this stupid city that holds academic achievements in a higher regard than funding.”

A snort of pure disgust left the billionaires mouth, as he stood up to refill his glass.

But Thor shook his head.  
“I’m not saying to not let other people embark on this quest. I’m saying not to let Peter go.”

Steve wrung his hands.  
“We can’t exactly keep him from going…”

Thor raised a challenging eyebrow.  
“Why not? He is a lovely creature, but he is not blessed with strength and battle prowess like the rest of us are. I imagine it would be quite easy to keep him here.”

The others looked around them uncomfortably.

“It’s not that we wouldn’t be capable of keeping him here, Thor, so much as that we… _shouldn’t_…do something like this.” Sam awkwardly rubbed his neck.

“… Why shouldn’t we?” But this time the question didn’t come from Thor, but from Bucky.

Nervously wiping his hands over his thighs, Bruce tried to give reason to his words, while the Hulk was roaring in agreement with the Winter Soldier.

“It’s… We can’t… Peter isn’t a child. Or a pet. … We have no right to just… _keep him_.”

Natasha spoke for the first time, her voice even.

“Don’t we? Haven’t we taken him in? Haven’t we taken care of him for the last year? Aren’t _we _the ones most responsible for his safety and well being? You just counted off all the dangers awaiting lastochka if he joins this expedition. It’s not safe. _And he is **ours **to protect_.”

Tony slowly set down his glass, eyes going back and forth during his inner debate.

“It’s not like we would be doing something _bad_… He needs us. He can barely remember to feed himself.”

Clint gave him a sardonic look for that.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna comment on how very hypocritical that is coming from you. But you are right. Last week he almost fainted, because he wanted to finish his thesis, and didn’t sleep for two days straight.”

Tony’s head shot up at this.

“What? Why didn’t I know about this? Friday? I thought I told you to keep an eye on my Sweetheart’s sleeping schedule.”

“Peter asked me not to inform you of this, when I attempted to get him to sleep. He said it wouldn’t be a regular occurrence, and that after he finished with his work, he wouldn’t have to neglect his rest so severely again. Since you yourself have abstained from sleep on far more occasions, I promised Peter discretion on the matter.”

_Dammit!_

Clint simply pointed to him.

“See? Hypocrite. But this just helps to prove the fact that Pete isn’t very good at taking care of himself. And we can’t leave him to a bunch of nerdy strangers. Nat is right. He is _ours _to _protect_.”

Bucky nodded along with this reasoning, as Sam pursed his lips.

“It’s not like there is any guarantee that this plant this professor is looking for will really cure the disease, right? It’s not worth it for Pumpkin to risk his health, possibly even his life, on a fools errand.”

Bruce couldn’t ignore the words of his friends, and the desires of himself and the Hulk, any longer.

“I have been on such fruitless expeditions during my time in university. I remember the hopeful anticipation in the beginning. And the crushing devastation when we came back empty handed. I would like to spare Petey such an experience.”

Steve held up his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, guys. You aren’t seriously considering,- what?** Kidnapping Peter**? Keeping him _locked up_ here with us?”

Bucky spoke before anyone else could.

“He would be safe here. We can protect him. Care for him. _Love him._”

Natasha nodded.

“We won’t hurt him. He won’t understand or like it, at first. But he will come around.”

Tony carefully chimed in.

“It will take some time. Patience. _Affection_. But… since everyone will be thinking he is gonna be in the depths of the Australian underbrush for at least half a year…”

Clint was already a step ahead.

“The Tower is listed as Peter’s official address, and Tony and Bruce as the overseers of his internship. It wouldn’t be suspicious if one of them called the university the day of the groups departure, to report that Peter can’t make it due to sudden injury or illness.”

Sam hopped right on.

“They will want to catch a very early flight, won’t they? It’s a bit of a trip to another continent. We could throw a little ‘Good-bye’ party for Pete. Invite his friends and aunt. Tell everyone one of us would drive him to the airport the next morning…”

A thoughtful crease appeared between Bruce’s eyebrows.

“The professors usually tell the students and volunteers in their group to leave things like their cellphones at home. There is rarely opportunity to charge the battery, and if you are deep in the jungle, there is no reception anyway. So _no one_ would be expecting to hear from him before the expedition team gets back. By that time,… surely Petey won’t _want _to leave us again.”

Steve took a step forward.

“Okay, stop. Do you realize what you are talking about? We can’t do this.”

“Don’t you love him?” Thor’s usually booming voice was quite, almost a whisper.

Steve nodded. “**Of course I do**_._ But-”

“Don’t you wish to protect him? To know that he is safe?” Sam added.

“I _do_. But that doesn’t mean-”

“Haven’t things been so much better since he came to live with us? We have all been more careful during missions, taking less risks, causing less damage, because we know Peter is _here_, waiting for us to come back.” Clint threw in.

“I-”

“Peter was underweight when he started living here, you know? He got some acid on his shirt, and had to change out of it. I could count his ribs back then. His clothes don’t look like they are his two heads taller brother’s hand-me-downs any longer, because _we _have made sure that he eats regularly. Do you think anyone else will do that for him in Australia?” Bruce asked.

“They.. no, they probably wouldn’t..”

“You have been drawing more, since Peter found some of your older sketches. It has helped you relax. Been a way for you to deal with the things we have been through. I know half of your sketchbook is full of drawings of him. Do you really think you can go back to before? Capture other motifs on paper? Be without your _muse _for six whole months, and possibly longer?” Bucky implored.

“I didn’t think of that…. I… I _couldn’t_…”

“When I was a child, I have never been allowed to want something. We were weapons, there was no room for wishes. I have gotten to experience friendship and trust since then, and maybe it is selfish to ask for more. But I want _more_, Steve. I want _Peter_. I _want _him to be _here with us_, not somewhere in some jungle that might take him from us.  
My trainers kept me from wanting _then_, will this world’s ideal of morality still keep me from wanting _now_?” She looked at him with eyes fuller of emotion than they had ever been.

“Natasha, I… no, of course you are allowed to want-”

“I don’t care if I’m being selfish. We are heroes, Steve. **Earth’s mightiest defenders**, isn’t that what they call us? We go out there and fight everyone’s enemies. People are safe _because of us_.  
But I will tell you right now, the only reason I have been able to sleep through a whole night recently, is Peter.  
I have seen so much shit in my life, Steve. Before the Avengers were ever formed, and then even more after we got this little superhero boy-band together. I used to tinker in my lab for days on end, because I knew that at one point my body would shut down on its own, and I would get the sleep I needed, with only the _minimum _of all the delightful nightmares my ptsd ridden brain could come up with.  
But ever since Peter has been here, it’s better. I go to bed thinking about the way his eyes light up, whenever I show him a new upgrade for a current project, instead of the wide open eyes of the dead child we were too late to safe. I’m able to sleep dreaming about the noises he would make, if I bit the nape of his neck_ just so_, instead of recalling flying a nuke through a portal and falling to what was supposed to be my death.  
Don’t try to tell me you haven’t had similar experiences with him. Don’t try to lie about this. We _deserve _to be selfish with the person we love.”

“I, I know, Tony. I’m not saying that I don’t understand…” The protest was feeble, weak. Steve was already more than halfway convinced.

“In Asgard, Peter would be called a ’**_Melmir_**’. A _gift_. Something to be kept to ourselves and safe at all cost.” Thor had stood, stepping closer to his friend.

“Peter isn’t a thing.”

“I did not mean to imply such. A treasure needs not be an object to be called precious. Peter is **precious**, is he not?”

Steve looked determinedly into the eyes of his taller friend.

“He is.”

Then the super soldier looked at his teammates around him. His friends. And he saw his own feelings reflected in their eyes.

“And he is _**ours**_.”

* * *

* * *

Only one more to go, folks.

Do tell me if this story needs more or specific tags that I have forgotten, please.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thank everyone for their kudos and comments. I'm sorry I haven't answered any comments so far, but know that I have read and deeply appreciated every one.  
I hope you all have a wonderful day and a great weekend.

Setting things up was almost too easy.

The Avengers floors in the tower were spread over four stories.

One floor made up an intricate and wide indoor training gym, with special equipment. The one above that was dedicated to lab work, and had all the instruments any scientists heart could ever desire.

Then came the common floor, which was by far, the biggest.

In the beginning, Tony had set it up so that every Avenger would have their own, private floor.

But everyone had quickly migrated to the completely functional guest rooms _(that all came with en-suite bathrooms)_ on the common floor. There was more than enough room for everyone, and the team mates liked being close to each other, while still having some privacy in their own rooms.

Peter’s room, of course, had also always been on the common floor.

The parameters for Friday’s new protocol were easy to code into her mainframe. As was the math to calculate the length of the chain, and the best place to anchor it to, so that Peter would still be able to roam the whole of the common floor freely, but unable to reach the elevator.

Tony and Bruce would, of course, take Peter to their labs with them, if he wished for it. A fitting chain would be placed there as well.  
Things were a bit different for the gym. They suspected that Peter would want to keep up his ballet practices with Natasha _(once he got used to his new circumstances a bit, they had no delusions that the first few days would be difficult for everyone)_. However, he clearly couldn’t be chained down for those. So there would be no chains there.

And really, the chains weren’t actually necessary. With Friday’s updated protocols, which disallowed Peter the use of the elevators _(which were the only way to access the Avenger floors)_, unless one of the Avengers was with him, or in case of an immediate emergency; as well as the fact that each and every one of them would be able to easily restrain Peter if it came to it, there was honestly no need to put a shackle on the younger man.

Thinking back, Tony didn’t even know who had suggested it in the first place, but once the image was there…

_They wanted it. _

They wanted the visible, physical, undeniable proof, that Peter wouldn’t leave them.

**Couldn’t leave them. **

They wanted to be able to touch the chain, run their hands over the links, hear the sound it would make every time the brunette moved.

Tony took great pleasure in making it. He was not going to allow some crude, mass manufactured, heavy dark chain to touch his Sweetheart’s soft skin. No. The chain he was making was a gold aluminum alloy, just like his armor. Strong, but light, and a glittering gold and red color. The cuff that would rest around Peter’s ankle was padded with the softest material Tony could find, ensuring that neither the delicate skin, nor bones would get damaged from wearing it over a long period of time.

Feeling inspired, the billionaire also made some handcuffs out of the same metal and soft padding, as well as some other things that almost had him come in his pants, from simply imagining using them on Peter.  
Not right away, of course, he didn’t want to spook his Sweetheart.  
But once things had progressed a little, when Peter had learned to accept _(and maybe reciprocate)_ their love, these things would be there, and Tony and the others would use them to make his Sweetheart feel more pleasure than he ever had before.

When Peter graduated from University, Tony had finished making all the restraints they would need _(and want)_. To celebrate Peter’s graduation, Tony invited everyone _(the team, Peter’s aunt, and his two friends)_ to the most expensive restaurant in the city. Between the lighthearted teasing and sincere praise of everyone, Peter was blushing the whole evening.

_Such a pretty little thing. _

During the next days, as his departure to Australia drew ever nearer, Peter was a bundle of nervous energy. Fretting about preparations for his trip, getting everything in order, trying to spend time with Ned and MJ, his aunt and the Avengers, before he wouldn’t see them for quite a while.

The day before his plane would depart, just as they had planned, the Avengers again invited everyone out, this time to a fancy, discreet place that served brunch. The food was good and everyone had a great time. At the end, Ned, Michelle and May Parker thanked the Avengers for the invitation, and then all hugged Peter tightly_ (May with tears in her eyes)_ and wished him all the luck in the world on his trip.

Peter likewise had to wipe some moisture out of his eyes after the heartfelt goodbyes.

Back at the tower, Bruce started the final stage of their plan.

“Peter? Professor Stoddard gave you a list of all the recommended shots for Australia, right?”

The younger man grinned. “Yep. Got them all covered. On a side note, I really hate needles.”

The admission got a small chuckle out of everyone, as well as a little smile from Bruce.

“Well, if you can grit your teeth through one more, I have mixed up something in the lab that will help your body to better adapt to the Australian climate.”

Peter gave him a look between surprised and moved.

“Aw, thank you, Bruce. You really didn’t have to.”

But the doctor shook his head, and placed an arm around the slightly smaller man, guiding him to the elevator, the dark, knowing eyes of the other Avengers on their backs.

“Nonsense. I think we all would feel a lot better, knowing that you are less likely to collapse from heatstroke the minute you get off the plane. Come. It’s in my lab.”

Ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened back up, showing Bruce carrying an unconscious Peter in his arms.

Steve stepped forward immediately, offering to take Peter from him.

“You made sure the sedative isn’t harmful?”

Bruce would take offense, but he knew that the super soldier was simply worried and anxious for their precious one.

“I’ve tested it multiple times. He will sleep soundly for approximately the next nine hours.”

With Peter carefully cradled in his arms, Steve led the small procession to the younger man’s room, where he laid him gently into his bed.

Natasha came forward and lovingly carded her fingers through the always messy, brown curls, swiping away a stray lock from his eyes. Clint was already in the process of removing the sleeping man’s shoes, and Bucky, with sure but soft hands, opened Peter’s jeans and tenderly stripped them off.

Sam was collecting the younger man’s tablet, phone and laptop. They would be kept secure and out of Peter’s reach, until they could be sure that their love wouldn’t try to contact anyone about his captivity.

Tony and Thor entered the room then, carrying the long, gold and red chain between them.

Clint huffed at the sight. “I’m still not happy that my Darling will be wearing your color scheme all the time.”

Tony just smirked at him. “What did you want me to paint the chain with? Purple? No chance.”

Then he took the cuff that was linked to the chain, and approached the bed. He sat down at Peter’s naked feet _(Bucky had quickly traded the jeans for a soft pair of pajama bottoms, not wanting his Doll to get cold during the night, in only his boxers)_

Tony took a moment to just admire the sleeping form of the man that held all their hearts in his hands. _  
He looked so peaceful_.  
He moved his hand to the ankle that laid against his thigh. __  
Such soft skin.  
He stroked over it lightly.   
So delicate.  
He could wrap his whole hand around the appendage without problem.

“We were right. Peter isn’t made for the jungle. It would be too rough on him. We can’t let him go. He needs us.”

He didn’t need to look up to see the agreement in the others eyes, and without further delay, he closed the cuff around the pale flesh.

“The chain will have to come off for changing clothes and taking baths, so there is a fingerprint scanner here” He pointed it out for the others “programmed to recognize our thumb prints. You need to press your thumb to it for five seconds, before it comes off, so there should be no accidental release. We will all need to watch our steps from now on, so that we don’t trip over the chain.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve spoke next.

“Remember that Peter won’t be too happy with us during the next few days. Maybe longer. He won’t understand this, and he will like it even less. The first week will likely be the most frustrating for all of us, but I won’t tolerate anyone taking it out on him.”

He was met with scowls.

“No one here would ever hurt him.” Sam had crossed his arms over his chest.

“It will take time, but Lastashka will come around.” Natasha continued to stroke his hair.

“Patience and love. Just like we talked about. He will accept it, one day.” Bucky’s voice was confident and steady.

“It is rare that all of us are needed for a mission, so there is always going to be at least one of us here with him. This should help him to get used to it.” Bruce added.

“I will have to attend matters at Asgard occasionally, but I doubt it will take more than a day at a time. It is important that we show him that we will always be there for him, and take care of his needs.”

Tony stroked over the padded shackle once more, before standing up and covering the still unconscious Peter with the warm blanket.

“Friday, initiate Protocol: Caged Bird.”

_

The first few days were difficult, but it was nothing they hadn’t expected.

Peter was mostly confused.  
He didn’t understand why his friends were doing what they were doing.  
He didn’t understand that their feelings for him exceeded friendship by a mile.  
He didn’t understand that keeping him locked up, was for his own good.

He tried reasoning with them, tried convincing them that nothing would happen to him in Australia, or any other expedition he might take part in in the future. _(He was very upset about having missed his flight. At the sight of tears gathering in his eyes, Steve had climbed into bed with him and cuddled the unwilling college graduate for about an hour)_

After that Peter had got it in his head that the team had been hypnotized or otherwise manipulated by some kind of villain. **(”This isn’t right. You know it isn’t. Someone is making you act this way. You have to fight this.”) **  
But, of course, it was to no avail.

They had expected him to be angry at them, to scream and curse and wish them to hell _(though he never did)_. And while he was clearly very unhappy about the situation, it wasn’t his anger that cut into the Avengers. It was his sadness.

The team did their best to help Peter through the ordeal, help him get used to things. Affectionate touches were freely given and numerous, no matter how reluctantly they were received.

They were vigilant about not giving him time or opportunity to get lost in negative emotions. Took care that he always ate and drank enough, would change the shackle from one ankle to the other every day, and then spent a few minutes to massage the joint, to ward off any discomfort.

Due to the shackle and chain needing to be taken off, in order for Peter to change his bottoms, or shower, someone was always in the room with him during that time. The lack of privacy and his own shyness about the others seeing him naked like this, was possibly the most challenging hurdle for Peter to overcome.

It took two weeks, for Peter to stop flinching away from their touches, and then another four days until he didn’t automatically stiffen any more, when one of them hugged him. His pleas to be let go tapered off after roughly the first month into his captivity.

When Clint actually managed to make Peter laugh one day, things changed again.

With the younger man’s slowly growing acceptance of his non-negotiable presence in the tower, the team grew bolder in their displays of affection.

Lips soon found their way onto the soft skin, hands alone no longer enough. Necklines were pulled lower, exposing more of the delicate neck and shoulder bones, then covering the light skin in love bites and hickeys.

Shirts were rolled up to gain access to stomach and chest. to stroke and caress, to lick and kiss. Soft tickles to the sides of the sensitive belly, light pinches and bites to the pink nipples.

Hands found their ways under the soft pants and boxers Peter wore, squeezing his buttocks, fingers ghosting over the rim, stroking up and down the length of his penis.

The younger man would tell them to stop, tried to shove them away, or wriggle out of their grasps, at first, but he was never successful. It was like a switch had been pulled in the Avengers heads. Knowing that Peter couldn’t get away from them, couldn’t run, _**couldn’t leave**_, allowed them more and more freedom to express their love.

They wanted to kiss him. Caress him. Feel him. Taste him.  
They wanted to make him feel good. Make him experience all the pleasure they could.  
Wanted to hear him moan, and gasp, and writher.  
They wanted to hear their name on his lips when he came.  
And then they wanted to do it all over again.

Peter discovered that, despite the chain that already shackled him to their home, the Avengers liked to restrain him even further, whenever things got more intimate.

Bucky and Steve both liked to use their superhuman strength. Steve would gather the thin wrists in one of his big hands, and hold them to whatever surface Peter happened to be on, before descending on the slighter body.

Bucky was the same, just that he exclusively used his metal arm to trap Peter’s hands with, so that his flesh one would be able to feel the others skin beneath him.

Sam and Clint almost always used the padded handcuffs that Tony had made, to bind Peter’s arms behind his back. Sam liked for Peter to straddle him like this, while he played with his body.  
Clint preferred to lay the younger man down on the closest soft surface, be that the couch in the living room, or whoever’s bed was nearest, and have his wicked way with him.

Natasha usually took Peter to her bedroom, where she used silk shawls and other soft ties to secure him to her bed. **(”Tying someone down can have two implications, Lastashka. The most obvious one is that it makes you unable to resist and gives me complete control. The other reason is that it’s not about reciprocation. Being bound forces you to accept the pleasure that I give you, to let me take care of you, let me make you feel good and worship your body like it should be worshiped. If you wonder which one of those implications comes into play here, it’s actually both. I _like _being in control, Peter, but I also like making you feel good. _Just let me love you_.”)**

Most surprising was probably Bruce’s fondness for Japanese bondage. The older scientist loved to put Peter in elaborate and complicated bindings _(with special ropes that wouldn’t burn or chafe at the delicate skin, of course)._ He would patiently and carefully wrestle the younger man into compliance, and then skillfully tie him up. The only reason the bondage never included a gag, Peter came to realize, was that Bruce would stop his work every few minutes, to kiss him tenderly on the lips, the cheeks, and his forehead. Sometimes they didn’t even have sex when Bruce tied him up, though the man always made Peter come.

Thor was probably the odd one out, as he didn’t have a specific method he used to restrain his lover. Sometimes he would use a soft rope, other times he closed the padded handcuffs around Peter’s wrists, and other times still the god of thunder would simply clamp his own, big hands around the slim body and manhandle him however he wanted to. One day Thor had stripped his love, pinned him down on his bed with one hand, and with the other, carefully, hesitantly, but full of anticipation, laid his hammer onto the youngers chest. Mjölnir wasn’t heavy in the sense that it crushed Peter, but it was completely impossible for the younger man to move out from under it. All he could do was claw at the bedding and move his legs to the almost overwhelming pleasure, as the Asgardian took him again and again.

Tony, even though he had been the one to design and make the handcuffs and various other restrains the team used on Peter, would usually direct one or more of the empty Iron Man armors to hold his Sweetheart in position. He loved watching as Peter ineffectually writhed against the unyielding hold of something he had created, while he kneeled before his captive, using the skill learned from years of being New York’s number one playboy, to suck him off. He always made Peter orgasm once, before he entered him. It was such a heady feeling, such a turn on, to see Peter experience a _second _release, while the billionaire himself was buried deep inside his warmth.

They made sure not to overwhelm Peter too much. He couldn’t be taken by everyone, everyday. And really, no one had a problem with this.  
After all, it wasn’t purely about sex. They loved Peter, and they loved making love to Peter, but fucking for hours on end was not the only way that physical attraction and devotion could be expressed.

Cuddling during movie nights, or taking a bath together, having him sit between their legs and leaning back into their chest while he was reading a book, were all things that were high on everyone’s list for making Peter feel special and loved.

Whenever it wasn’t Steve himself to share this kind of intimacy with his Honey, he liked to draw the scene before him. His sketchbook was full of pages upon pages of Peter being cherished by one of his team mates. _(He always drew the chain, and sometimes the handcuffs, as well. The different restraints had become as much of a symbol for their love, as everything else had)_

Three and a half months into Peter’s captivity, everyone was gathered in the living room, watching a movie. Peter was lying with his head in Natasha’s lap, the former Assassin lovingly stroking her hand through his hair. His legs were laid over Sam’s lap, with the man softly kneading his calves. The rest of the Avengers had spread out over the other couches and chairs in the room, basking in the peaceful atmosphere that knowing Peter was close by, always brought to them.

“Do you hate us?”

Natasha’s quiet question cut through the room like a knife, and Peter could see every one of the Avengers stiffen, as they waited for him to answer. He inhaled deeply.

“…No. I don’t hate you. I don’t like being locked up, I’m not always too happy about all the restraints, I miss being able to run around outside, jump from building to building, or just take a walk. I still don’t understand why you are doing all this,… But I don’t hate you.”

They all slumped a little in relief, Sam affectionately squeezed the ankle without the shackle, and Natasha continued to stroke through Peter’s hair.

“No more parkour for you, Doll. It’s too dangerous.” Came Bucky’s rumble to the brunettes right, and he could see the others nod their heads in agreement to this. He sighed.

“But we can talk about a few outings in the future.”

Natasha and Sam kept him from sitting up, but Peter still looked at Tony with wide, excited eyes.

“Really?”

The billionaire nodded. “If you agree to wearing a tracker, maybe an anklet. And at least one of us has to be with you. Possibly a few more rules that we will decide on then. But yes, really.”

Seeing the <strike>reluctant </strike>agreement to that in everyone’s eyes, Peter smiled widely. It wouldn’t happen in the next few days, he knew. Maybe not even for another month or more. But he would get to go outside again.

One day.

* * *

* * *

That’s it folks.

As you can probably tell, I’m not very good with writing smut. (In fact, I didn’t really, explicitely, write any… sorry)

Which is why, if anyone is interested / wants to do it, I would not at all be opposed if someone wrote additional parts to this story.

The only thing I ask, is that you keep things nice.  
**No degradation, humiliation or pain play, please. **_(Pain play would include things like spanking and orgasm denial. Orgasm **delay** is fine, but outright denial can not only be considerably painful, but might also have real, physical consequences.)_

I don’t mean any offense if those are some of your personal kinks or likes, but I myself don’t enjoy those very much _(or at all)_, and I don’t think they would fit into the mind frame of the story, or the Avengers.


End file.
